


Eyes of the Hero

by bcbdrums



Category: Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hope, Identity, Post-Episode: s02e21-22 Twilight of the Apprentice, Tags Are Hard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-21
Updated: 2018-02-21
Packaged: 2019-03-22 01:00:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13752927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bcbdrums/pseuds/bcbdrums
Summary: "What are you working on?" Sabine asked, stepping closer.Her eyes widened.  "You know, you can't just put those everywhere.  They're special.""I know that," Rex snapped, his eyes narrowing.





	Eyes of the Hero

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: To my Star Trek readers - I have not forgotten!!! I've just been immersed in Star Wars since I finally saw TLJ (I have yet to form a final opinion on that movie). Still have my Sarek fic open on my desktop. It's not going away.
> 
> \---
> 
> So I decided to binge-watch "canon" Star Wars in chronological order (excluding the first Clone Wars cartoon) and I've gotten through the prequels, the CGI Clone Wars, and Rebels. But I've paused since Rebels actually has its series finale in two weeks, so I'll actually wait to watch Rogue One and the original trilogy until that series ends.
> 
> Anyway, this fic demanded writing after I noticed something in the premiere of season 3 that no one has seemed to mention and for which I can't find answers in trivia or wikis... I'm sure Dave Filoni has the answer for this question, but, since I can't just call him and ask him, I decided to write my own answer.
> 
> To be clear—I have NOT read a single Star Wars book. Any knowledge I reference outside of the series comes from Wookieepedia.
> 
> This fic picks up at the end of 'Twilight of the Apprentice.'
> 
> EDIT: Two important lines have been added to this fic, if you're re-reading it. If it's your first read, don't worry about it. :)

 

 

The sound of familiar engines shutting down drew Rex from his work.  He set the partially-cleaned blaster down and stepped from beneath the shelter of the coral to meet the shuttle's occupants.

His other new comrades—Hera, Zeb, and Sabine—were already approaching the small craft.

Rex was grateful for his new companions and his newfound purpose.  While there was nothing that could match the bond between he and his brothers, or the loyalty he had for his Jedi commander, he had been slowly beginning to lose his mind on Seelos.

Not to the extent that poor Gregor had lost his, of course.  But it was in his programming to fight.  And hunting  _joopas_ was a poor substitute for slagging clankers.

The outdated astromech that his comrades called Chopper rolled past him with an annoyed buzz and caught up with the young rebels.

Captain Syndulla—Hera—stepped out ahead of the others as the shuttle door opened.  

She deserved her title.  In fact, the only pilot he thought could best her would be General Skywalker himself.  But she wasn't defined by her title.  None of these rebels were.

Captain Orrelios was as kind and honorable a leader as General Koon had been, and the young Mandalorian from the prominent political House had the fierce determination of General Kenobi.

But these people saw themselves neither as figureheads nor as insignificants in a grand galactic scheme.  They saw simply the people inside, and what each of them fought for.

Perhaps that is why Rex had been drawn to join them, for he had seen from those points of view himself in the Clone Wars.  First as CT-7567, one of thousands following orders until death, destined to die and to be forgotten.  Later as Captain Rex, one whose name conjured stories of fear and of glory.

But in the end, he couldn't fully find himself in either of those people.  And after the Betrayal he had felt truly lost for a number of years.  Living in secret, not able to trust any of his brothers for fear they were part of the treachery, and not having any training or pre-programmed protocols on what to do when you were the victim of a galactic conspiracy.

And he couldn't fight the Empire alone.

For a time, he had no identity.  It was only when he met Gregor that he began to feel some purpose again, taking care of the wounded soldier.  And later when reunited with Wollfe, in brotherhood he was able to find some peace.

Now, with these young rebels, he was able to remember and truly understand his identity—the way he chose to define himself, just as the rebels did.

He was Rex.

Looking past the Lasat he could see the scrawny young Padawan descending the ramp, supporting his master around the waist.  And as he got closer his eyes widened in shock as he understood why.

The Jedi's hand was extended in front of him, not using the Force, but carefully feeling his way.  His face was drawn with uncertainty, his jaw tight.  And his eyes were covered by an emergency bacta bandage.

Rex watched as Hera broke from the rest of the small group and rushed forward to meet the Jedi, her hands on his face for just a moment before she embraced him fiercely.

The former soldier's pace slowed as he reached the others and he looked past the two Jedi at the ramp waiting for the third of their party to descend.

But she didn't.

He looked then to the Padawan, whose eyes were already waiting for his.  The pain and sorrow they held gave Rex the answer he had feared.

Ahsoka was gone.

Ahsoka...was dead.

And with that knowledge, he felt part of 'Rex' begin to slip away.  The determination to fight no matter the odds—the captain who would have followed his Jedi to the end—began to fall like dust from his old armor.

His eyes closed and unbidden images of the war came to him:  an impenetrable wall of red laser fire striking down brother after brother; blue and green blades atop a wall shining like beacons of hope; and himself, running forward through the barrage to launch his ascension cable so he could reach the general and commander, refusing to let them die alone.

Had she died alone?

"Hurry, if we can get Kanan some help we might still be able to save his vision!" Ezra's cry drew Rex's attention back to the present.

"Ezra..." the older Jedi protested, defeated.

"No!  There has to be a way!" the boy shouted and began dragging the Jedi by the hand toward their command center.

Rex, Sabine, and Zeb gave a wide berth as the knight was dragged beneath the shelter of the coral, supported on his other side by the Twi'lek.

Rex looked between the other two, knowing their shock was mirrored in his own eyes.  The droid buzzed and clacked its claws together as it sped after its masters, and a moment later the others followed.

Rex tried to give a respectful distance as the Phoenix Squadron's medical technician began tending to Kanan's wounds.  The others weren't so shy, and had to be shooed back.  Of course, they only moved a few feet away and continued their staring.

Kanan leaned back as the operating table was gently inclined to fifty degrees to give the technician better access.  The rebels didn't have a fully qualified doctor in their ranks—at least not on Atollon—and Rex was skeptical of how much help the technician would be, despite his good intentions.

The sudden collective gasp of his companions caused him to take a step closer, and peering past Zeb's ears his eyes widened as he saw what everyone else did.

A lightsaber wound—Rex was far too familiar with them—had bisected Kanan's face horizontally.  Right across his eyes.

To say the damage was brutal was an understatement.  The clone captain had seen battlefield wounds that no amount of time in a bacta tank could restore, and he was afraid the same would be true for Kanan.

"Hera."  The Jedi Knight's teeth were clenched and his voice taut with pain.  "Get out of here!"

"Kanan..." the Twi'lek responded, her own voice hoarse as tears filled her eyes.

"Get out of here!" Kanan growled.

"Come on," Rex said, his captain's instincts taking charge.  He stepped in front of Hera and put a hand on her shoulder, not forceful, but insistent.

After a moment she relented, and as she turned the others did too.

Rex continued with a hand on Hera's shoulder, guiding her until they away from the shelter of the coral and Kanan was far beyond their view.  Beneath the sunlight, things didn't feel quite as hopeless to Rex.  Though he knew the light was only temporary.

"Ezra," Sabine's stunned voice drew everyone's attention.  "What happened?"

The young Jedi Padawan sat on a crate and hung his head, his shoulders slumping in exhaustion.  "It...it was Maul."

"Maul!" Rex exclaimed, staggering back.  After his escape from Mandalore, nothing had been heard of the former Sith.  And certainly that man—or what was left of him—was twisted and evil enough to perpetrate such an inhuman crime.

"You know him?" Ezra asked incredulously.  All eyes turned to Rex.

The former clone captain blinked.  "Is he a tattooed red and black half-cyborg with horns?"

"Yeah.  Yeah, that's him."

Rex sighed.  "Unfortunately, I do know him.  He used to be a Sith.  Then he was a Crime Lord and took over Mandalore.  After that...Ahsoka and I never found out what happened to him."

Pain gripped Rex's heart when he said Ahsoka's name.  But he was well-acquainted with death.  He would grieve her as he had so many of his brothers, and all who died in the Betrayal.

"He was on Malachor?" Zeb asked.

"Yeah," Ezra said.  "We found a Sith temple.  And then we were attacked by three Inquisitors.  I got separated from Ahsoka and Kanan, and...that's when I met him.  He..."

Rex felt an instinctive suspicion rise within in him as the boy hesitated and his eyes darted away quickly.  

"He wanted my help to get into the temple," Ezra finally said, looking back.  "He said there was knowledge to destroy the Sith inside.  But it was a trick.  The temple was really a giant weapon that he wanted for himself."

"What for?" Sabine asked.

"I...I don't know.  He didn't say.  But when Ahsoka and Kanan tried to stop him..."

When the boy looked away this time, Rex knew exactly why.  In defending his Padawan and fighting for the light, the Jedi Knight had paid a great price.

"But you defeated him," Sabine said, drawing her own conclusion.

"No.  Yes.  I mean...I didn't.  Kanan did."

The young rebels looked between each other.  The droid buzzed something akin to confusion and Hera echoed its sentiment.

"I don't understand."

Rex watched as Ezra hesitated again.

"Go on, boy," he urged, and the others looked at him.  He may have been too abrupt, but he didn't like liars, and he had learned not to give people a chance to conjure them up.

"The Inquisitors were attacking.  Maul sent me to unlock the temple, and he helped Kanan and Ahsoka defeat the Inquisitors.  But then he betrayed them.  And that's when he...when Kanan..."

Zeb moved to sit next to the boy and draped a heavy arm around him.

Ezra wiped away tears with the back of his hand and continued.  "They were fighting him, but the Sith weapon was gaining power.  Ahsoka came to help me, and Kanan defeated Maul."

"After he...you mean, he defeated Maul  _after_ he...?" Zeb asked, his eyes widening.

Ezra looked up at the Lasat.  "Yeah."

"How?  If he couldn't see?" Sabine asked.

Ezra shook his head.  "I'm not sure."

"Because he's a Jedi," Rex said with authority as a swelling of respect and awe rose within him. This young Knight who led the rebels was far stronger than he had realized.  None could ever equal  _his_  Jedi of course, but this one...Kanan Jarrus...was special.

"If Maul was defeated, and the Inquisitors..." Hera began, confusion written across her features.  Rex knew what her next question would be and found himself holding his breath.  "What happened to Ahsoka?"

When Ezra looked up this time there was a fear in his eyes that Rex had never seen.

The Padawan's breaths quickened, and Rex could see him struggling for words.

"It was him.   _He_ came."

"Who?" Sabine asked.

"The Sith Lord."

Rex had heard about this new evil from the rebels, but he had yet to see the man for himself.  If his skills were anything like those of a Jedi...

"He wanted the weapon for himself.  But we destroyed it.  And Ahsoka..." Ezra paused again, his sadness fading to awe as he gazed upon something none of them could see.  "The last we—"  He paused again, grief returning to his eyes.  He closed them tightly.  "The last...I saw her, she was fighting the Sith Lord as the temple started to collapse.  We escaped in the _Phantom_.  We barely got out before the weapon exploded."

Rex closed his eyes for a moment and then began walking back to the workstation where he had left his blaster.

"Rex," Hera said, and he paused.  "I'm sorry."

The former clone captain lifted his head and turned to face them, one of his past identities taking command.  "She died doing her duty.  And protecting her friends."  He looked down.  "She had that in common with her master.  Her loyalty to her friends knew no bounds.  And she would do anything to protect them."

He glanced once into the wise, sad eyes of the Twi'lek before turning back and leaving the group.

_'Rex.'_

That person came into existence for the first time on the day of the Betrayal, though he had only come to truly understand the man in that very moment.

Like his Jedi, like Ahsoka, and like these young rebels, his own loyalty was infinite.  And it was to liberty that his heart was tied.

He glanced back once more at the group of grieving friends—no, family—and then looked up at the sky.  He thanked the Force for giving him such a long life, and he asked for the chance to make whatever he had left of it useful in the fight for freedom.

For what was life without the peace that those you love are safe?

As he approached the workstation with his blaster he glanced to where the medical technician was finishing his work with Kanan.  Against his instincts—or rather, against  _Captain_ Rex's instincts—he approached the young Jedi.  He supposed it was in _'Rex's'_ instincts to care for a friend.  That's what his Jedi and Ahsoka had taught him.

The technician had just walked away and Kanan remained on the inclined table.  He turned his head at the sound of approaching footsteps and his expression tensed.

 _He doesn't know it's me,_ Rex realized and paused.  Had such fear truly been awoken in the Jedi?

"Rex," the man said a moment later, regaining his calm.  Though his expression also seemed to carry resignation.  

Another bacta bandage was across his eyes, covering the wounds that would most certainly leave a scar.

"Master Jedi," he greeted formally.

He watched the younger man's eyebrows rise.  "I'm no master," he said, shaking his head.

"Ezra tells us you defeated that half-dead monster after he injured you.  Fighting that animal...in the kind of pain you must be in..."

"Wouldn't you have done the same?" Kanan cut him off, turning his head to face him.

It was as if he could see him, and Rex glanced away in embarrassment.  But as he peered at the Jedi's face, who so often he was at odds with because of the past, he realized that not only was this Knight special in his combat abilities, but he was wise in the Force as well.

"Yes.  I would still do whatever it takes to protect...the ones I love."

The younger man's brows rose again.  He pushed himself up on his elbows and leaned toward Rex.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Uh.  Of course."

"Where were you when...when the clones betrayed the Jedi?"

Rex stepped forward and sat on the technician's work stool.  "It happened during the Siege of Mandalore."

"I don't know anything about it," Kanan said.

"That's when I met that...Maul.  He had taken over the planet, and the 501st was sent to take it back.  And Ahsoka.  She saved me from that monster.  And we both faked our deaths to escape."

"But you didn't betray her?" Kanan asked, leaning farther forward.

"No.  I'd had my brain chip removed already.  Those vile things are what made my brothers..." 

Rex stopped as the dark memories returned.  Brother against brother...it never should have been.

Kanan leaned back against the bed again, sighing.  "I...believe you."

The clone looked at the Jedi.

"I'm sorry.  I didn't want to believe you before."

Rex bowed his head both in sorrow and apology.  "If I could...I would destroy the whole bloody Empire for what they did to my brothers.  And to yours."

"I know.  Sometimes...it seems impossible.  A war not worth fighting.  I used to think we should just cut our losses and find a place away from the Empire on the Outer Rim to live out the rest of our lives.  That a rebellion stood no chance of success."

Rex looked up again.  Kanan's face was turned away.

"But ever since...you joined us, I've started thinking differently."

"Since I...?  But what have I done?"

Kanan turned toward him again.  "Well, first, you forced me to let go of my hate for clones.  And with my mind clear now, I can see...what you were really created for.  What your kind truly believed in.  And it's not programmed.  You fought for everyone's freedom, and _you_ keep fighting, no matter the losses.  And the hope that you have...  It doesn't seem impossible that we can win someday.  Not anymore."

Rex stood and closed the distance between he and Kanan.  Hearing his approach, Kanan reset the bed to upright and cautiously stepped off, facing him.

Though he knew Kanan couldn't see it, Rex saluted.  "It will be my honor to serve you in this war, Master Jedi."

"I told you, I'm not a master.  Or a general, or anything.  I'm just..."

"Kanan," Rex finished.

"...Yes," the Jedi replied.

_And I'm 'Rex.'_

"As I said.  It will be my honor to serve you."   _Master Jedi._

"You're not serving anyone.  We're all serving together."

Rex was selfishly glad at that moment that Kanan couldn't see the tears welling in his eyes.  He was equally glad they didn't reach his voice.

"I know."

Kanan reached out his hand and felt off to his left, where a small table stood.  On it were his blaster, lightsaber, and an odd looking mask.  When his hand found the mask he picked it up and put it on.  From its ruined paint and the way it looked ready to fall apart at any moment, Rex determined it must be very old.

"What's that?"

"It's the helmet of an ancient Jedi Guard.  I picked it up at the Sith temple."  His voice was muffled as the helmet covered his entire face.

"It certainly  _looks_ ancient," Rex commented.

"It also smells ancient."

Rex wanted to laugh, but didn't.  Not at the risk of hurting his friend's feelings.

Kanan took the helmet off then and was indeed smiling.  Rex chuckled.

"If you'd like, I can fix that thing so it won't fall apart."

Kanan dipped his chin in thought.  "I don't think I can get used to smelling it," he said seriously.

"I can fix that too, if you don't mind me...uh...rearranging ancient history?"

Kanan smiled slightly and nodded.

"Right then.  Be back in a jiffy."

Rex strode back to his workstation, helmet in hand.  As he went he saw Hera quickly taking his place at Kanan's side.

The Jedi had more emotions than hate to deal with, of that Rex was certain.

Laying the helmet on the table he picked up a laser drill and began carving it from the sides.  Besides the smell, it was pointless for it to cover Kanan's entire face.

He carefully carved away the bottom until the top was the perfect shape to cover the Jedi's eyes and leave the lower half of his face exposed.  As he worked he realized that the wood had been subjected to some intense heat, as if in a kiln.  He wondered then why a Jedi helmet had been in a Sith temple in the first place.  

He turned off the drill as he finished and clapped the ancient sawdust off of his hands.

"There!" he said with a grin.

And then the helmet collapsed at the seams.

Rex grumbled his displeasure at the artifact and looked for an adhesive to glue the wood pieces back together.  Of course, the whole idea seemed inadequate now, if the helmet was that fragile.

"Hey, droid!" he called, seeing Chopper rolling nearby.

The droid turned toward him and buzzed in response.

"Come help me with this!"

The old astromech approached while spewing a volley of complaints that Rex was glad he didn't understand.

"Just be quiet and listen.  I'm fixing this mask for Kanan, but it's going to keep falling apart without some additional support.  I need something to reinforce the structure.  Can you find me something that will work?"

The droid buzzed and then turned and rolled away slowly, making Rex suppose the old astromech had no intention of helping.  He would have to go look for something himself, but he may as well finish repairing the helmet first.

It took longer than he had expected to glue the ancient pieces back into their original symmetry.  Apparently the helmet had been designed to hold together in its original form, not to be modified.  And certainly not after being subjected to extreme heat.

The sun had begun to set and it was getting harder to see as he finished reassembling the helmet as he envisioned it.  But the adhesive seemed to be working, so he continued on until the sun had disappeared beyond the horizon.

A sharp buzzing startled him from his focus and he turned to see that Chopper had returned.  He was holding his own white and blue clone helmet in one claw, and an old clone training helmet in the other.

"Hey!  That's mine!" he said, snatching his helmet away from the pesky droid.  "And where did you find that?" he said, grabbing the training helmet as well.

Chopper buzzed his annoyance and rolled away.  Rex realized he probably could have said 'thank you,' even though he had no intention of deconstructing his own helmet for the sake of Kanan's mask.  But the training helmet on the other hand...  It was as sturdy as his own armor and could serve a dual purpose of holding the ancient wood helmet together and protecting the Jedi's face.

Setting the helmet down and turning it around, he began carving again with the laser drill.

After several minutes of much more cautious work, Rex had affixed the solid armor plate to the front of the modified temple helmet.  

"There!" he said with satisfaction, leaning back to admire his work.

This mask would cover Kanan's eyes and forehead and should stay on with ease.  It would have comfort from the wood and stability and safety from the metal plate.  It would even deflect blaster shots if Kanan ever happened to be in the line of fire again.  Rex knew that the earliest training armor was made on Mandalore, and was the only armor he would trust besides his own.

He picked it up to go take it to the Jedi, but paused as the lamp light reflected brightly off of his own helmet that still sat on the workstation.  Suddenly he had an idea and sat down again.  There wasn't an appropriate tool for what he had in mind, so picked up a wrench and started scraping at the metal plate.

The last reflected light of sunset had gone and Atollon was illuminated only by stars as Rex patiently scraped at his creation.

Memories of his earliest combat training surfaced as he worked, and a fond smile graced his features.  Back then he was CT-7567, and his ARC Trainer had been relentless.  But he, like all of his brothers, refused to give any less than everything.  It's what they were created for.  And when it was all over, he had a name.

Not long after that the call finally came.  He and his brothers answered and they left the waters of Kamino for the choking dust of Geonosis.  Rex's smile faded at the memory.  So many were lost that day, and he had almost been among the fallen.  But it was what they were born to do, and he would have been just as happy to give his life for the Republic that day as he would be to die for the Rebellion in the present.

He glanced at his helmet.  After Geonosis he and the other wounded (and even some of the dead) had been sent home, less for treatment and more for analysis—how did the clones actually hold up in a real battle?

He remembered waking up in the infirmary to the peaceful eyes of a Kaminoan and the hardened eyes of his old Mandalorian trainer, who he had never expected to see again.  But apparently his fellow troopers had been talking.  And apparently he had done something heroic during the battle, though he could scarcely remember it.  And the old warrior had taken his blade, leaned over his chest, and carved the Mandalorian symbol of bravery into Rex's armor that day.

It was something the clone captain would never forget.  It was something that inspired him whenever he felt weak, and the symbol sent a message to everyone around him:   _this_ clone was special.

"Are you okay?" a voice startled him.

He nearly dropped the wrench as he turned and saw Sabine hovering about ten feet away, her small form barely illuminated by the base lamps.

"Fine," he said, going back to his scraping.  "Why do you ask?"

"You've been sitting here for hours."

Rex looked around and saw that he was alone in the outdoor workshop of the base, the predatory  _kryknas_ casting their ominous shadows as they patrolled near the sensor beacons, searching for a way to make the rebels their next meal.

"You missed dinner," Sabine continued.

"I guess so," Rex commented, going back to his work.  He didn't think he could eat anyway.  Working on the mask and remembering the beginning had helped him not to think of Ahsoka.  And now, he thought as he looked down at his nearly-completed work, he could think of her with honor instead of despair.  If he could give this gift to her as well, he would.

"What are you working on?" Sabine asked, stepping closer.

Rex realized his wrist was cramping from all the scraping.  He set the mask on the workstation and leaned back so Sabine could see it.

Her eyes widened.  "You know, you can't just put those everywhere.  They're special."

"I know that," Rex snapped, his eyes narrowing.  "My first combat trainer was Mandalorian."

Sabine looked at him suspiciously, crossing her arms.  He watched as her gaze flickered between the mask and his own helmet, still sitting on the workstation.

"So then..." she said hesitantly, "someone gave you yours?"

"Of course."

"Who?"

"The officer who trained me," Rex said, "after my first battle.  I almost died."

The suspicion left Sabine's eyes.  "Oh."

Rex sighed and turned to face her, too weary for argument.  'Captain Rex' may have gone further to defend his honor, but 'Rex' was tired of fighting.  Especially with those he cared for.  "You know, many of us thought of your people as...cousins.  As part of us."

Sabine looked away guiltily.

"I know we can't ever call Mandalore home, and we wouldn't.  Kamino is...was...our home.  But the part of your people that we carried with us, we honored."

"I'm sorry," Sabine said.

Rex turned and looked at his helmet.  "Yeah," he said, remembering the Siege again.  "So am I."

"So...what are you going to use that thing for?" she asked, stepping closer to look at the mask.

"It's not for me.  It's for Kanan."

Sabine's eyes widened and her lips parted.

Rex flexed his hand and wrist repeatedly, getting his blood moving again.  He was too old to be sitting in one spot for so long, he realized.

"You didn't finish the last streak."

"I know," Rex said.

"Mind if I do it for you?"

Rex looked at the young, defiant Mandalorian and saw in her eyes what he had realized that day in himself.  Not the warrior, not the child—just Sabine.  She didn't want to wear a false identity anymore than he did, or her other young rebel companions.  One couldn't live in peace seeing themselves that way.

He hoped Kanan would realize the same.

"Be my guest."

He stood aside and let the young woman sit down to complete his creation with a few final scrapes of the wrench.  Except that she couldn't—the alloy was too strong for her.  And after a few determined minutes she stood up with a frustrated huff, and finally turned to smile at him.

"You've ruined this thing you know," she said, waving the wrench, which was now noticeably lopsided from the stronger alloy ripping it apart more than it had managed to scrape into the  _beskar._

Rex grinned.  "It was worth it."

She stood and smiled gently at him.  "I agree."

"So where's Kanan?" Rex asked.

"On Commander Sato's ship, in the bacta tank.  You can give it to him tomorrow."

"Right...  Is there any dinner left?"

The young woman chuckled and gestured back to the interior of their new base.  Rex paused to stretch before following her and glanced back at the dimly lit workstation one last time.

Next to his helmet the new mask rested, the pieces of the ancient Jedi helmet just barely visible at the edges of the dark _beskar_ plate.  And now carved immutably into the metal where all could see and so all would know and fear was the mark—shining, silver  _jaig—_ the eyes of the hero.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Speaking of symbols I can't find the answers to...what's with the upside-down triangles?? They're _everywhere_. It's driving me insane! Help!
> 
> Who _wasn't_ surprised by the events of "Jedi Night"? Not me. Saw it coming.
> 
> Still crying.
> 
> Edit: And who loved how the series ended? I'm only seeing hate online. :/


End file.
